Sing a Song
by ValorOrgulloso
Summary: Harry is feeling down after Dumbledore's funeral and breaking up with Ginny, so Ron, surprisingly, talks some sense into him. Harry tries to get back together with Ginny, but she is making him do something special before he can have that privilege. HG


**DISCLAIMER: I am disclaiming that I own the books. It sucks.**

**This fic has literally been sitting around for one year. I took out my notebook 2 months ago and have been slowly editing the story to make the reactions more believable. Hope I wrote it well! Think of it as a tribute to the "Nine-Days-Before-The-Last-Book-Comes-Out" day. I'm going on vacation tomorrow, so I decided to get this up ASAP. This has some language in it (not a lot... for me) 'cause I have a potty mouth, so if it offends... Enjoy anyways!**

A young man of seventeen stirred awake to the faint sound of pots clanking and many voices.

"Mum says you need to get up, Harry!" came the yell of Ron Weasley down a flight of stairs.

"'Lrigh'," Harry called back groggily; sleep still heavy in his voice.

Harry groped for his glasses on the side table. Once he found them, he shoved them onto his narrow nose. Getting out of bed, Harry cracked his back, yawned, and then grabbed some jeans and a shirt to wear for the day.

It was odd, really. Ron was not normally the one waking up Harry; it was usually the other way around. But, ever since Dumbledore's funeral, Harry had been staying in bed later and later.

Harry had broken up with Ginny at that same funeral. He wanted her to be safe from harm's way and out of Voldemort's reach. It was the perfect solution, in Harry's opinion, and it seemed so right to do at the time. But, now, looking back at his decision, Harry was having second thoughts.

_Did breaking up with her even do anything to make her safe? I mean, wouldn't Malfoy and Snape tell Voldemort that I was going out with Ginny Weasley?_ Harry pondered this from time to time, but he always ended up pushing it aside with another part of reason. _But what would happen if he found out we weren't dating anymore? Then he would think that I don't care for her anymore._

_But _what if_ he sees through that charade?_ the first voice would argue back.

Harry stopped and sighed in the middle of tying his trainers' laces. He was just so _confused_. First, he became burdened with the responsibility of destroying Voldemort's bloody Horcruxes, and then he became burdened with the responsibility of girls. At the moment, the former seemed much easier to cope with.

Looking at his watch, Harry found it to be a little past noon. Harry frowned and walked down the Burrow's rickety stairs. When he walked into the kitchen, only Mrs.Weasley was there, washing dishes. An almost empty plate of sandwiches was the only thing currently residing on the dining table other than a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I let you have a bit of a lie-in, so I kept some sandwiches out for you to eat when you came down," Mrs. Weasley said, turning from washing dishes, to point to the table.

Harry smiled, something he had not been doing much of lately. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

"You're welcome, dear."

After finishing half a sandwich—he didn't have much of an appetite lately—Harry went out into the backyard to find all the Weasley siblings, minus Percy, playing Quidditch, while Hermione sat on the ground beside the pitch reading a book

Harry joined Hermione on the ground and watched the match. Fred, George, and Charlie were on one team, while Bill, Ron, and Ginny were on the other.

Harry watched as Bill stole the Quaffle from George, who shook his fist threateningly as his opponent flew away with the red ball. Harry grinned slightly as he watched the transaction. His eyes fell to Ginny, who Bill had passed the Quaffle to after stealing it from George. His heart clenched painfully. Harry knew she was off-limits.

_Am I really making the right decision?_ Harry asked himself for what seemed the millionth time that summer. Ginny let out a cheer as she scored a goal on Fred. Harry could not see her eyes from here, but he imagined they were sparkling with laughter. Did he really want to give her up – chance at finally being happy? _No… but I have to if I want to keep her out of the way of Voldemort._ Harry sighed. Why was life so difficult?

"Oh, Bee-ill! I'm ba-ack!" came the sing-song voice of Fleur Delacour from inside the kitchen. Hary saw Ginny's face scrunch up, even at this distance. It was a known fact that Ginny disliked _Phlegm._ Bill smiled at the sound of his fiancée's voice and flew back down to earth.

Fleur and Bill were getting married in one week. The bride-to-be just came back from an outing of picking up her wedding dress.

The Weasleys on the broom argued, yelling for Bill to get back in the air; the game was not over yet. He just ignored them and walked into the house to greet Fleur.

Harry watched all the Weasleys descended from the air and discarded their brooms grumpily. Fred, George, and Charlie followed Bill into the house, while Ron came over to talk to Harry and Hermione. Ginny was walking slowly towards the lake with her hands in her jean pockets.

"Hey," Ron said, taking a seat between his two best friends.

Hermione, without even looking up from her book said, "Hello, Ron."

Harry didn't even respond, for he was looking at Ginny's proceeding back with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a small frown.

Ron observed this and sighed. His best mate looked so _sad._ Well, sadder than usual.

Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, Harry had smiled less and less. He was very apathetic. At first, Ron just thought he was depressed because Dumbledore, a man Harry deeply respected and probably loved like a grandfather, had died. But, after awhile, he noticed Ginny and Harry were barely speaking to each other, which was odd in itself, because they were normally joined at the hip. Ron asked him about it, but Harry just brushed it off by giving a stiff answer of, "We broke up." And Ron couldn't get anymore of an answer than that.

So, naturally, he then went to Ginny to get the story. He asked her why Harry and she had broken up. Then he finally, after a bit of persuading, got the truth out of her. "His stupid, noble reasons," Ginny spat bitterly. "He thinks that, by being together, Voldemort could get to me through him. _Ha!_ As if I'm not already a target. What, with Tom's bloody diary and being a _'blood-traitor'_ Weasley…." He let her rant on for another minute or two, but he had gotten the answer he was looking for.

Ron touched Harry on the arm, making Harry jump and look at him. "Why don't you just get back together with her?" he asked his friend softly.

"What?" Harry asked, completely thrown off by the question. Even Hermione looked up from her book at what Ron said.

"You heard me," Ron said earnestly. "Just get back together with Ginny. You're both miserable; even _I_ can see that. You don't eat as much, you sleep longer, you sulk around… Ginny does the same thing pretty much. Stop moping and get back together!"

Harry looked a little shocked at what he was being ordered to do. He didn't think Ginny had felt that way, too. "But I can't!" Harry refused, finally finding his voice. "I mean – I – it's – it's not safe for her!" Harry managed to splutter out the last part beautifully.

Ron rolled his eyes, which was an odd thing for him to do, since he was, well, Ron. "Do you really believe that if you aren't with her she's safe?"

"Of course!" Harry replied with more confidence than he felt. "Of course she's safer! I'm target number one on Voldemort's hit list and with her beside me, she'll probably take my place on the list!"

"Harry," Hermione said, "Ginny is already a target in case you didn't know."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked.

"She was possessed by Voldemort's Horcrux diary, and it got destroyed. I have a feeling that Voldemort doesn't appreciate parts of his soul being killed."

"She's also a Weasley, causing her to be considered a 'blood-traitor' among Death Eaters," Ron added. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Snape and Malfoy will have also told Voldemort about you two. And she is probably one of the first people on Voldemort's hit list anyway."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't think of a valid point for his side of the issue. Hermione had mirrored Harry's own reasoning from earlier. With a sigh of defeat, Harry ran his hand through his hair and lay down on the cool grass. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course we are," Hermione said, smiling. "We are always right."

"But Ginny probably hates me right now for breaking up with her. I doubt she wants to get back together with me," Harry said miserably, ignoring Hermione's last sentence.

"Mate," Ron said, "Ginny will take you back if you tell her you were wrong, and you finally came to your senses. She's like that."

Harry sat back up and looked at Ron, unsure. "You really think that'll work?"

"Positive. You might just have to try a bit."

Harry nodded and noticed Ron and Hermione looking at him expectantly. "What?" Harry asked, clueless as to why they were looking at him like that.

"Are you going to go talk to her?" Hermione asked.

"What, now?" Harry cried, alarmed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, there's no better time than the present!"

Slowly rising to his feet, Harry started turning towards the lake where Ginny now sat. Placing one foot in front of the other, Harry made his way to the lake. His legs felt like jelly, his heart was pounding loudly, his mind was racing…

What one earth was he going to say? _Oh, hey, Ginny, I'm a jerk. Let's get back together._ No, those words were empty. It wouldn't work at all.

All too soon, Harry was standing within ten feet of Ginny.

He didn't know what to say. His mind had gone from racing to completely blank in an instant. The only thing he could think of was his own mortification. He was going to sound so _stupid!_

"Harry was surprised when he heard Ginny's voice ring out, "What do you want, Harry?" She practically sighed it out of herself. A surge of guilt pulsed through Harry.

"I…," Harry cleared his throat and tried again. "I – I know that I'm a complete git and all, and if I were you I would hate me, which you probably do at the moment. I don't blame you." Harry paused.

"Just get on with it," Ginny insisted, turning to face Harry. His face grew hot as he realized he had been rambling. He looked down and scuffed his worn out trainer in the dirt. He was too ashamed to look at her. He was so ashamed of the pain he had caused her.

"But, I've… I've been thinking."

Ginny snorted. "That's something new."

Harry winced at the hurtful words, knowing that he deserved them, but plowed on. "And I have realized that pushing you away doesn't do anything to get Voldemort off your back."

"Figured that out, have you?" Ginny asked softly.

Harry nodded even though it was a rhetorical question. "Yeah…," he agreed. He tried to take a deep breath, but something seemed to be constricting his lungs. He finally looked up at Ginny. Her face was unreadable. "Can I take back what I said after… his funeral?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, but Harry felt as if a major weight had been lifted off of his chest. He could breathe properly.

Ginny smiled slightly, and Harry's stomach rose up to where his heart sat. "Sure." Harry returned her smile. "But…" Harry's smile faltered. _But what? _"How can I trust you? How can I trust you to not do the same thing to me again?" Her tone was not unfriendly or hurt, just curious.

Harry bit his lip; he had not been expecting an answer like this. Maybe for her to yell at him; call him a prat… but not this. "I'll… I'll do anything! Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," Harry nearly begged. He did not want Ginny to deny him of her. She was too precious to lose when he was so close to having her again.

Ginny searched his begging face; his pleading eyes. A sly smile began to form on her face. Harry gulped audibly, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

"Well…," Ginny started, strutting towards him. She walked behind him and stroked the back of his neck gently. "I—" Harry shivered. "—would like _you_ to—" She emphasized the _you_ flirtatiously. "—get on stage—" Harry didn't like the sound of this. "—at Bill's wedding—" Not one teensy bit. "—and sing a song—" That would be in front of—! "—in front of _everyone._"

"What?!" Harry cried.

Ginny grinned maliciously. "Do that and my trust is yours. See you there, Harry…." Harry stared open-mouthed as she walked off towards the house, swinging her hips provocatively.

"_SINGING?_" Harry yelled. A distant, tinkling laugh echoed towards the lake.

---H-A-R-R-Y-P-O-T-T-E-R---

Harry looked at the stage where the band was playing. It was the after party of the wedding, and Harry was _really_ nervous. He was going to make a fool of himself; he just knew it. The twins would tease him relentlessly. But at least he would have Ginny. He made himself repeat this over and over. Otherwise, he would have not gone through with this.

He had spent the week with Hermione, attempting to find a song he could perform. Hermione had laughed when she heard what Ginny was making Harry do, but soon turned sympathetic and helped Harry find a decent Muggle song from her collection of compact discs.

It was hard to find the right song. They had to make sure it wasn't too fast. Harry knew it would be an even worse performance if it was too fast. He also did not want it whiny; he would sound like complete crap if he chose an annoying, whiny song. So, finally, after two days of searching, they had found the perfect song. It was slow, not whiny, and, funnily enough, fit the occasion of why Harry was singing. They had practiced the rest of the week, although Harry was thoroughly embarrassed for having to sing, even if it was only in front of Hermione.

Hermione had talked to the band before hand, explaining Harry's situation, (they had thought it was hilarious) and the pianist, the guitarist, and the drummer agreed to play the music for the song after a few of their own. There was one song left to play before Harry was up, and the time could not have gone by any faster.

One minute, Harry was sitting in the audience, watching Bill and Fleur get married, the next he was at the after party by the stairs of the stage, getting prepared to sing in front of the Weasleys, the Delacours, and a lot of other friends.

Harry felt a hand pat him on the shoulder. He looked around to see the lead singer of the band offering him the microphone. _Oh, shit._ The singer grinned at him. "You're up, mate."

Harry could only grunt as he took the microphone. His stomach was churning. _Why the hell did I agree to do _anything He slowly went up on stage. Best get this over with.

Harry stared at the crowd. There were probably a hundred people! Harry gulped. _Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, fucking. Bloody. Shit._ Harry saw everyone look at him. His eyes looked for Hermione. She said if he was nervous all he would have to do was look at her. She was watching him and, when she saw him looking at her, she grinned reassuringly.

"Um… hi," Harry started, nervous. He saw Ginny staring at him in awe and amusement. _You put me up to this! _"Well, Ginny told me that I have to sing a song up here to, um, gain back something that I lost." Ginny grinned widely and leaned back in her chair. She was enjoying this way too much. His stomach went in knots as the music started. Instead of looking at Hermione, his eyes automatically went to Ginny. He hoped he did not sound like a complete idiot.

"_Yesterday I got lost in the circus,  
Feeling like such a mess,  
Now, I'm down I'm just hanging on the corner,  
I can't help but reminisce,  
When you're gone all the colors fade,  
When you're gone no New Year's Day parade,  
You're gone,  
Colors seem to fade."_

Ginny had expected him to sound horrible. She had vaguely wanted to embarrass him. She did not even think he was going to go through with singing. But he had gone through with it and he sounded _good_.

"_Your mama called she said that you're down stairs crying,  
Feeling like such a mess,  
Yeah, I hear you, you're in the background bawling,  
What happened to your sweet summertime dress?_

"_I know we all, we all got our faults,  
We get locked in our vaults and we stay,  
But when you're gone all the colors fade,  
When you're gone no New Year's Day parade,  
You're gone,  
Colors seem to fade.  
_

"_Yesterday I got lost in the circus."_

_  
_Harry finished the song, quickly putting down the microphone and rushed off stage. It was not as bad as he thought it would be, but he still didn't want to be up there any longer if he could help it. As soon as he was off the stage, a figure flung itself into his arms.

"You great, stupid prat!" Ginny said affectionately. "You didn't _really _have to do that!"

"What? But you told me to!" Harry exclaimed. He had just done all that for _nothing_? Harry, no matter how hard he tried, would never understand women.

Ginny smiled. "But I like you all the more for it." She then pulled him down for a kiss.

When Harry resurfaced, he was grinning stupidly. The Weasley brothers, minus Ron, were all staring at Harry and Ginny in disbelief.

"What the hell, Potter?" Fred exclaimed. They obviously did not know they were going out previously.

Harry looked at Ginny, shaking his head in disbelief. He had just gone through with _singing_ in front of a _large crowd _for Ginny and, still, her brothers were probably going to threaten to beat him up. Ginny just smiled up at him as he grinned slightly at her. He had her and that was what really mattered. "What the hell, indeed."

**The song is "Colors" by Amos Lee. It's a beast song. You should listen to it. It took me a reallllllllly long time to figure out what song Harry could sing and still be in-character. So...**

**R**

**E**

**V**

**I**

**E**

**W**

**-**

**N**

**O**

**W**


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